


In times of Peace, Prepare for War

by Shipper101



Series: Mountains of the Past (The 100 Season 4) [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: BAMF Clarke, Dark, Post-Canon, Season 4 sort of hopes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 09:27:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8157272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shipper101/pseuds/Shipper101
Summary: Luna has always believed in peace. She had always shielded her people from harm. Now, can she shield herself





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yay- had this preying on my mind for a long time. This is post season 3. I don't know what sort of time jump I will go for, but it will be elaborated on in later parts of the series (If I get my shit together and actually post them)

When Luna awoke, she felt cold. Her head felt like it had been on the recieving end of a tussle with an Pauna, and her arms were already covered in goosebumps. The room was pitch black, the only light filtering in through one of the cloth covered holes in the wall that the people of polis called windows. She wished she had never come here. She wished that she had just stayed in her safe haven. Groaning, she stretched her mind back, remembering how all of this started:

####

Luna was dragged from her rest by an insistent beating on the door. Groaning, she mumbled at the intruder, before rolling over. The visitor seemed insistent however, beating on the door. Grumbling to herself she drew herself up from her bed, and wafted over to the door. Unbolting it, she came face to face with one of her guards. He looked nervous, but at the same time he seemed to exude manic energy. He was positively vibrating.

'Speak'

The guard mumbled something in trideslang. Luna missed most of it. However, two words brought her into sharp focus; Skaikru, and, most terrifyingly, Naitblida. Another nightblood could only be trouble. Nodding to the guard, she told him to inform her guests that she would be with them soon. Closing the door, she took a deep breath. Another nightblood. With Skaikru. The only thing that could mean was another fumbling attempt to bring her, and with her her clan, into Lexa's accursed coalition. Groaning, Luna grasped her longcoat, slipping it on over her nighshawl. She would have honestly thought that her very obvious refusal to Wanheda would have calmed the waters, but alas, no such luck. 

It was only when she entered her hall that she realised that she had estimated incorrectly. The Skaikru girl, Oktavia, and a much younger boy stood before her dais. Hearing her entry, they both turned their heads, locking eyes with her. The boys eyes were old for his physical youth. They spoke of sights far too dark for such a young person. Octavia's eyes, however, were something else. They were hard, unfeeling and merciless. When Luna had last seen her, she had been breaking at the seams, trying to comprehend Lincolns death, but instead of facing it,s he had simply lashed out, blaming others. Now, she was hardened. A killer fully grown.

'To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit, from ones so illustrious as the Skaikru wanderer and a Nightblood, if my guard was not mistaken'

Octavia seemed to start forwards, only for the boys arm to restrain her. Luna smiled a sad smile. Another ahead of his time. Such wasted life.

'We request your aid...' the boy began

'As I said to Wanheda, and every Heda that asked, I will take no part in your wars. We are peaceful here'

At this, Octavia snarled at her 'So peaceful you allow the world around you to crumble before sacrificing your precious morals.'

'If we cannot stand by our morals, there is no reason to save the world, Skaikru'

Octavia bristled, and looked ready sto spit out a retort, only for the boy to quickly speak over her

'We have not come to request military aid. Our people are being stolen away in the dead zone. Entire towns are taken overnight, some killed, others dragged away. The clans and Skaikru are responsible. We have gathered an army to investigate, and reclaim our people, but we request that you provide protection to the women and children. This isn't their war'

Luna smiled inwardly, then grimaced. The boy was a skilled talker, she would give him that. If only his words were fairer. Gesturing to the entryway, Luna led the two of them through the passages to a room that had once served as a negotiation room. 

'I am sure I can find a way to help...'

####

Luna was dragged from her thoughts by the sound of footsteps outside the door. There was a low grumble, and then the door swung open. Blinding light filled the room, and Luna tried to turn her head to see who it was but found that her limbs were strapped to the table upon which she currently lay. Luna began to shake. The shilouette walked over to the portals in the walls, throwing off the cloth. As light streamed in, luna caught a glimpse of her captor, and swore.

'Now, Luna, is that any way to greet Wanheda' chuckled Clarke Griffin

####

Luna smiled as she walked through the streets of Polis. Children played, and adults laughed. It all seemed right. Everything seemed peaceful. The helpless in the dead one would be safety within Florokru soon, and then Octavia could lead her warriors into the territories of the Clans, to reclaim their people. Or, if all went to plan here, they wouldn't even have to do that. As she reached the spire, she gestured to her travelling companions. They turned, disappearing into the crowd, even as the guards nodded, allowing Luna into the belly of the beast. Luna had to say, she never thought she would be back here again. So many years. So much had changed. The Coalition, Skaikru, the False Commander. All started by Lexa. Titus was gone. Luna didn't know who would replace him.

Reaching the throne room doors, Luna hurled them open. Fifteen heads turned to her. Twelve sat upon their wooden thrones. Two stood on either side of the great, twisted throne of the commander, guns raised and aimed at the intruder. One, Luna recognised. Bellamy Blake. The other, Luna hadn't seen before. She was a pretty young girl, with golden hair. Her eyes were cold however. They lacked the predator quality Luna saw in Octavia's, but this girl had killed people, and was probably used to it. And finally, in the centre, sat upright on the throne, was Clarke. Her hair caught the sun perfectly, glowing almost like a halo around her head. She looked regal. She exuded power. To be honest, Luna was a bit scared. Swallowing, Luna stepped forwards.

'I am Luna kom Florokru, Nightblood of the Conclave, and I challenge for the throne of Heda by right of combat.'

Clarke smirked, looking bored at her from underneath lidded eyes. Grippng the arms of the throne, she pulled herself to her feet.

'I refuse'

Luna looked at her, stunned. 

'Then I claim the throne of...'

A gunshot rang out across the room. Luna's eyes widened as she felt the savage pain in her abdomen. Clarke handed the smoking gun back to Bellamy disinterestedly, her eyes never leaving Luna.

'Harper, Bellamy, take our guest to the operating chamber'

And with that, the world faded to black

####

Luna's screams died down as Clarke removed the drill from her leg. Inhaling frantically, she desperately took in lungful after lungful of precious air. When her chest calmed down, she glared at the Blonde haired girl, who was fiddling with something on the bench

'What is this for? I know you. Even you wouldn't just hurt someone without a reason.'

Clarke chuckled... a sad, low sound, as if crushed by some unseen weight.

'Even me... Well, Luna of Florokru, this is a strange mix of business with pleasure. Your bone marrow will be extremely useful. As for the pleasure, let me make this extremely clear...'

Clarke leaned in, until her nose was mere inches above Luna's

'...I hate you. You, your clan, and everything you stand for. You are not an island of peace in a sea of conflict. You are an island of ignorance and arrogance. You expect the rest of the world to fight your battles for you. It was Lexa that enabled your lifestyle, by bringing peace, and it was me, and my friends, that saved you all from ALLIE. You are worthless. Pathetic.'

'What do you want the dead zoners for?' questioned Luna

Clarke grimaced.

'The world as we know it is coming to an end. Radiation levels are going to spike by eleven percent. A last little parting gift from our ancestors. But for every problem, as they say, there is a solution.'

Pulling back from Luna's face, Clarke returned to the bench. Picking up a gun like device, she pressed it against her right arm, before pulling the trigger.

'The answer, as it turns out, was with the moutain men. Before their end, they had made never before seen breakthroughs in radiation immunisation. With their deaths, that knowledge became Skaikru's'

Luna's eyes widened. The drilling, the agony. Was that what her people had suffered in the moutain? Was that what Wanheda had ended?

'The next problem was finding possible donors. Nightblood works. Its' radiation resistance is enormous. However, it is also extremely tricky to transplant, and thanks to the regular genocide of the bloodlines, it would never be possible to find enough donors.'

Clarke withdrew the gun from her arm, placing it on the table as she grabbed a bandage, wrapping it around her arm.

'The next option was revealed to us by Raven. Within the dead zone, radiation levels fluctuate constantly. It is possible that a tiny percentile has sufficient radiation resistance to be plausible donors to the cause'

Luna gasped as the full relevance of what Clarke was saying sank in.

'You were taking them? From their towns? FROM THEIR HOMES!!!'

Luna struggled against the bonds, desparately trying to get free. Clarke just looked at her.

'I steeled myself and did what needed to be done. For my people, and for hers. That is all I have ever done, and all that I am doing now.'

Luna paused. Something was off.

'If Nightblood dosen't work on a large scale, why are you extracting it from me?'

Now, Clarke smiled properly. Her eyes were heavy with loss, as she said:

'I hadn't planned to survive this. I was to be with her again, for all eternity. But now, there is a chance. Because this will be the last thing I do for my people. The disposessed have gathered in your island fortress, ready and ripe for the taking. Your companions in Polis will soon lie dead. And after I have mad this last, final sacrifice, nothing, in this world or the next, is going to keep me from her.'

With that, Clarke raised her gun to Luna's temple, and pulled the trigger. In a splash of black fluid, the last thought in Luna's head died.

Spirits save us all. Death has gone mad

**Author's Note:**

> And there we have it. Please drop me a comment on your thoughts. i do read, and often try to respond to my comments, as they define my self worth as a human being :)
> 
> Anyway, I have decided upon a new method of writing. I cannot do filler well, so I am going to do a sort of 'series of moments' style. I have ideas about the wider world, but I only have certain character moments in mind


End file.
